Protector
by Umbrella-ella
Summary: SMacked one-shot. Takes place a couple weeks after "All Access". Mac's musings and the results.


**A/N: So, this is my first EVER CSI:NY fanfiction. I hope I have done the characters justice. Be cautioned that they might a bit out of character, as I have just **_**recently**_** been sucked into the comfortable vortex that is SMacked. I was in Biology when I thought of this. Timeline set a couple weeks after "All Access". I don't own stuff. Be cool if I did, but obviously, I don't.**

**Protector: A One-Shot**

Mac Taylor brushed the sleep from his eyes as he stepped out of the shower. Gazing at his own rugged features in the cracked mirror that hung in his cramped bathroom, he smoothed his hand over the stubble that had grown overnight. Or maybe it was before. He didn't know. He didn't really care either. Rinsing his razor off, he began to shave away the reminder of last night.

Or had it been the early morning?

He had been too tired to care. Sighing, he lifted the razor to his face, continuing to shave. Rinsing his face off in the sink, he grabbed the single towel hanging off of the rack. Letting the rough fabric of the hand towel scratch his face was a good enough distraction for him. The coarse, cheap towel provided a sharp distraction from his memories. Of Stella's case. Of work.

Of Stella herself.

When he found her, laying there in her home, unconscious and unresponsive, he had feared the worst. Feared he had lost another love. Nightmares plagued him for two weeks. Last night was the first night he'd slept without dreaming.

He loved her. Mac loved her.

God, he loved her so much, it hurt when he was near her.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he tossed the towel on the ground, proceeding to his bedroom, clad in only a white towel to cover his lower body.

A few minutes later, as he tightened his tie around his neck, he spotted the nearly empty bottle of whiskey on his bedside table. He picked it up, sniffed it, grabbed the cap, screwing it on tightly, and tossed it in the small trashcan near his bedroom door. He was done. He had just been stupid last night.

Drowning his sorrows in alcohol?

Wouldn't happen again.

Not after this.

Hearing the glass shatter in the container gave him an odd satisfaction. Like he was putting this all behind him.

He would go into work today, put on a happy façade, which he was sure would, as the day wore on, become more real than he would acknowledge.

Stella was due to come back to work that afternoon.

Just knowing that put Mac in a better mood.

Straightening his tie one last time before heading out the door, he thought, _'I can tell her that I'll always be there for her. I'll be her protector.'_

That afternoon, the elevator dinged, signaling the arrival of the one and only Stella Bonasera.

Mac hurried to her side, asking, "How are you?"

Tilting her head to her left slightly, curls shifting, Stella sighed, "Just glad to be back at work. Lindsay hounded me every day I was gone, insisting that if I needed anything to call her. She must've called twelve times every day. She was so broken up about it all."

His lips curling up into a rare smile, Mac responded, "We all were. It's good to have you back, Stella."

"It's good to be back." Stella smiled at him, turning to face him.

Mac felt the mental blow so clearly he thought it was real. Stella's face was still bruised and cut. The assurance that he had paid himself that morning was ripped away. Forcing a smile, Mac voiced in a strained tone, "I'll be in my office if you need me. If you want to talk…"

Stella nodded and watched as he walked away.

Stopping in the hallway, Mac turned towards where she had been.

Mac saw her waking away and his quick rapid steps overtook hers in a matter of seconds.

Catching her arm lightly in his grasp, Mac stood in front of her.

"Mac? What is it?" Stella's voice hid nothing from him. She was confused.

"I should've been there that night."

"What?"

"I should've been there, Stel."

"Why the hell would you have been at my place?"

"If I had told you a long time ago, then…" Mac trailed off, his gut twisting violently as he noticed Danny and Lindsay standing there, stunned looks on their faces, watching.

"What, Mac? Told me what?"

"That I am in love with you." Mac expelled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He searched Stella's eyes for something.

Anything.

"Mac… I can't… Mac, I don't know how to deal with this." Stella gazed at the marine's face, looking for vestiges of regret. She found none.

"Then don't. Take time. Think about it. Heal."

"And in the mean time? What will you do, Mac?"

"Easy. I'll be protecting you."

"Protecting, huh?" Stella's eyes glowed with a hidden humor.

"I am yours. That means I'm your protector."

"Protector. I like the sound of that." Smiling, Stella moved past him, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze as she moved down the hall.

"I'm holding you to it, Taylor." Stella threw over her shoulder.

Danny and Lindsay stood shocked, exchanging surprised glances.

Smiling, Mac noticed the two spectators.

"Back to work, you two." Mac barked, making his way towards his office.

"Protector." He muttered to himself.

He liked the sound of it too.

**A/N: So, how did I do? A little angst in the beginning, but it all worked out for the best. What do you think. Reviews are my addiction. Besides fanfiction, that is. **


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